


From Montreal, With Love

by MissyLeigh89



Series: Started at the Stampede [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bottle Service Girls, Coffee Shops, College/University, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Gen, Misunderstandings, Multi, Secrets, coming together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:14:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28498881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissyLeigh89/pseuds/MissyLeigh89
Summary: It's August, and Mireille is in Montreal hoping to continue moving on with her life. There's college, new jobs and new people in her life, but the more things change, the more they stay the same.The videos were definitely her friends' idea though.It wasn’t a bad one, and it’d be a neat way to keep up with her West Coast friends without worrying about the time difference. There wasn’t any real reason she could think of why not, so she shrugged as she stacked the box on top of the others.“Sure, why not? What’s the worst that could happen?”
Series: Started at the Stampede [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087553
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Repost; additional tags/warnings to be added as they become relevant.

The YouTube channel started at the insistence of Lisa and Sara, days before Mir was set to leave for Montreal. 

The three women were in Mir’s room, with her packing and the other two just watching. It was a quiet affair, none of them ready to broach the subject of their days together being numbered. As usual, it was Lisa that was brave enough to break the stalemate they had going.

“You better Skype us every day.”

Mir smiled, folding her sweaters into a box labelled ‘Winterwear’. “It’s a three hour time difference. It’ll be impossible to get a hold of you guys during the week.”

Lisa pouted, but Sara interjected with “How about like a daily video message? You love your camcorder anyway, plus it’ll give you a chance to practice for your classes.”

“Every day though?” Mir asked, trying to squish down the sweaters to make room for the last handful she had left. “What would I even say? ‘This morning, I had pancakes instead of cereal; it was wonderful’?”

“YouTubers do it all the time,” Lisa pointed out, seeming to cheer up with the suggestion. “Like they vlog about their lives. You could do that for us, so we can vicariously live through you.”

“From Montreal, With Love,” joked Sara. “We can have a rival channel, To Montreal With Love or something.”

Mir was quiet as she taped up the box, contemplating the idea. It wasn’t a bad one, and it’d be a neat way to keep up with her West Coast friends without worrying about the time difference. There wasn’t any real reason she could think of why not, so she shrugged as she stacked the box on top of the others.

“Sure, why not? What’s the worst that could happen?”


	2. Montreal Calling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have the strength to make this a truly bilingual experience. I'm aware that Montreal is French-based and while I can string together enough to be French passing, I'd rather not have to rely on Google Translate when I get stuck (I once got swimming mixed up with floor and it still haunts me some 15 years later...)
> 
> "..." is the characters speaking English.
> 
> «...» is the characters speaking French.

Arriving in Montreal was surreal. 

The shift in language was the big thing. Up until she was sixteen, Mireille had spoken a lot of French with her family; her parents, mostly, but also speaking with her father’s parents. So, arriving in the city and hearing the language as the primary one was a kind of familiar, she had forgotten existed.

Dana had set it up that most of her belongings would be shipped to the apartment, so all Mir had for the airport were her carry-on which consisted of her electronics, a spare outfit, and toiletries that were under 100 millilitres, as well as a single suitcase with enough clothing and toiletries that she could survive the few days it took for the rest of her belongings to materialize.

In all honesty, she half-expected the older woman to greet her despite knowing that she was situated in Vancouver. Paranoia that Mir would not follow through. 

Instead, there was no one, and she had to rely on Uber and the address Dana sent her. Neither her nor her driver, Kevin, tried to make small talk with each other after they loaded her suitcase in the trunk and made their way into the city proper. 

She took the time to put in the group chat that she arrived safely in Montreal, sending a video clip of the city passing outside her window. Sara was quick to respond, saying that she was jealous and that it looked beautiful. 

Six hours on a plane left her feeling drained and not particularly chatty, so she sent her friends a smile emoji and closed out of the conversation, pocketing her phone and watching the city.

She hadn’t realized that she drifted off until Kevin was saying «You’re here.»

Here was an apartment complex that was all brick, steel and glass balconies. It looked newer and- Mir cringed- expensive, even though rent wasn’t her issue. Climbing out of the car, she pulled her laptop bag out and draped it across her body, rounding the back to where the trunk was already popped. 

Kevin was out of the car, helping grab the bulky luggage and lowering it to the ground, wheels side down and handle raised up. «You okay from here?»

«Yeah, thank you.» Mir smiled. «Have a good day.»

He nodded and got back in the car, while she walked towards the building. The street wasn’t as busy as she expected it to be, easily making it to the lobby without incident. Someone from the front office buzzed her in, gesturing her over once she was through the door.

«What’s your name, sweetie?»

«Mireille Rieux?»

The lady at the front desk typed the name into the system, apparently finding what she needed before looking back to her. «Ms. Rieux, a Ms. Dana Williams left a message saying that we should be expecting you. The condo is in her name but says that you’ll be the one residing here.»

«Yes Ma’am.» 

«Excellent. It’s already been furnished for you, and the keys are right here. You’ll be on the third floor, number 306. Elevators are just down the hallway here. If you need any help, the office is open until 6pm Monday through Friday.»

The keys were handed over and Mir thanked her, realizing after she walked away that she never got the lady’s name. She would worry about that later; all she wanted right that moment was a shower and food.

\---

A week later, and she still felt like a stranger in her own home.

The rest of her belongings had arrived a few days after she did, and the movers were good enough to bring the boxes up to her apartment and leave them in the living room. It had only taken the rest of the morning to unpack her clothing and knick-knacks, and the end result left her feeling heartbroken.

Nothing in the apartment was hers. 

Sure, the closets and dressers were full of her clothes, the bedspread and pillows came from her room in Victoria, and there were posters hanging in the bedroom and office. But the sectional in the living room was too beige and not squishy enough, the mattress not firm enough, the white walls of the place not screaming _home_ or _mine_ the way that her shared apartment with Lisa did.

The more Mir looked around, the more it hurt. She tried to fake it as she wandered through the space, recording the rooms for a virtual tour to send her friends, but by the time she made it back to the living room her spirit felt crushed.

Dana had been the one to pick out the apartment- _“Close to school, and close to some vibrant attractions.”_ \- and furnish it. Mir hadn’t objected, mostly because she hadn’t felt like she could and was still trying to shift through all the emotions and shame she felt.

Now, she wished she had.

-

“Go shopping, you dork,” was how Lisa greeted her over their scheduled Skype session. No hello, no how are you doing, and it made Mir feel fond.

“And buy what, exactly?” she asked, trying to tamper the ridiculous smile on her face. “As you can see, the place is fully furnished.”

“I dunno. Personalize the office. Make it yours. All that’s in there is a desk, right?”

Mir nodded; her image grainy as the video lagged slightly. “What do you suggest, oh wise one?”

Lisa stuck out her tongue like the mature adult she was before responding. “Get a nice armchair or something. A bookshelf. Cover it with more posters. I don’t know. Make it say that Mireille was here.”

Again, it wasn’t a bad idea. And it had the upside of getting her out of the apartment and looking around the area. Explore her surroundings.

“You hate that I’m right, don’t you?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she hated her friend wasn’t here, but they were still too fresh from saying goodbye at the airport. So, she gave her friend the middle finger, smiling as Lisa broke out in hysterical laughter and feeling something in her chest settle.

-

I’ve Bean There was the first place she found. Granted, she purposely typed ‘coffee shops near me’ into Google in an effort to find a place near the university and to satisfy her own caffeine deprivation. She wasn’t disappointed either when she walked into the shop, with three out of four walls being exposed brick. One was the storefront, which had a massive bay window, complete with cushions and throw pillows. There were framed pictures on the walls: cityscapes, black and whites and coloured alike, as well as a few more arty pieces that she thought might be local artists. And of course, the mandatory Montreal Canadiens memorabilia.

Mir hadn’t realized she spaced out until the guy behind the counter called out to her. “You lost?”

“Sorry.” She felt her face heat as she approached the counter, absentmindedly running her fingers through her hair. “Vanilla iced coffee with a shot of espresso, please?”

“Coming right up.” The barista- Kit, according to his nametag- started filling the cup with ice before pumping the vanilla flavour shot. “First one is on the house.”

Before she could protest, a blonde man carrying a tray of baked goods came from the back and eyed them both speculatively. “Giving away free coffee again, Kit?”

“I can pay for it,” she said nervously, trying to find her debit card.

The blonde smiled at her and winked, wrapping up two cookies and sliding them over the counter. “She must be new here. College student?”

“University,” she corrected, unprompted and again, she felt her cheeks heat up. “I start at Concordia in a few weeks.”

Kit handed over her drink, ice cubes clattering against the sides. “Well good luck. Hopefully, we’ll see you back here.”

“Thanks.” She picked up her drink and treats, smiling at the pair before turning and exiting the shop. 

Sure enough, barely three streets over, was the university. She smiled, small and to herself, as she thought that maybe- just maybe- this was all going to work out.

-

That feeling lasted up until she got back to her apartment several hours later, carrying a few rolled up posters in her bag and with a plush overstuffed armchair getting delivered in the next two weeks. There was barely any time to put down her bags and kick off her shoes before her phone was going off, caller ID showing an unknown number.

“Hello?” she answered breathlessly, juggling her purchases and purse to get further into the apartment.

«Hello, may I talk to Mireille Rieux?»

«Speaking.»

«Good afternoon, Ms. Rieux, my name is Noëlla Dubé, I’m the manager and owner of _Nouveau_ here in Montreal. Your name was brought up by my business partner as someone that would be a good fit for the club. Would this be something you’d consider?»

Mir wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or to cry. Here she was, being offered a job she never applied for and even though the name was never mentioned, she was sure that Dana was behind it. But she needed the income, and there was no easier way to get a job than to have it handed to her.

Plus, she had enjoyed her few months bartending in Victoria.

«Does it matter that I’m a student?»

Noëlla gave a chuckle over the line. «I’m aware, yes. If you want to bring in your timetable once you get it, we can work around your schedule. I also want you to come in for a few trial shifts as well, paid of course, to see if you’re a good fit with the rest of the team.»

«Definitely. Is there a day that works best?»

«Ideally, I would like to start you on a slow night, let you get a feeling. With it being the summer though, our slow nights are still fairly busy. Would Wednesday work for you?»

Two days. «Yeah, of course. Anything specific you want me to wear?»

«Black, generally. Jeans are fine, as long as they are dark-washed and in good shape. None of the ripped kind. You’re on your feet basically all night, so whatever you can stand in as long as they aren’t flashy. Hair pulled back if it’s long enough. No visible brand names or logos on your shirts.»

Basically, the same as every other job she had. «So _Nouveau_ on Wednesday night.»

«Seven o’clock. We open at eight, but it gives me time to go over some stuff with you and introduce you to the rest of the crew.»

«Thanks Ms. Dubé, I appreciate the opportunity.»

«Noëlla, please, and don’t thank me yet. Enjoy the rest of your day.»

The line disconnected, and like she was a puppet whose strings just got cut, she sagged to the floor. She wondered if texting Dana to tell her to stop interfering in her life was seen as rude and ungrateful; in the end, she sent a text to Lisa with a photo attachment of the rolled posters.


End file.
